


Hello Again

by skamtrash8903



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamtrash8903/pseuds/skamtrash8903
Summary: Elio and Oliver meet again after many years. What will ensue??????
Relationships: Oliver & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Hello Again

I'm waiting for him. I know he's in the city, or why else would he call? 

I start to think he may not show up, but take refuge in my knowledge that Oliver isn't the type to leave one hanging by such a merciless thread. I know he's going to come, he has to come. 

As easily as this thought comes, the knocks on my door come as well. 

One knock: quarter note.

Two knocks: eighth notes. 

Two more knocks: eighth notes. 

He knows just as well as I do that I'm catching on to his game. Anyone else would open the door, right? Of course they would. I, though, am not doing such a thing. I get up from my position on the couch, walk to the door with a newfound ecstasy in my blood, and knock back to him, as if to say: "I'll take your bait, sure, I'll play along. Your little games make me giddy and weak in the knees and you know it. Come get me Oliver, I'm right here. Knock, knock."

I know he catches on because the door handle begins to jingle. 

Ha, ha, ha, Oliver. Who's trying to pry open the door to me now? All of these years I thought I was the one trying to get to him, yet here he is flipping the unfinished script. What a ploy Oliver, well played. 

I take a breath, unlock the door, and swing it open. 

Here he is, in all of his glory. 

Oliver. 

His eyes are still crystals. They're blue and emerald and gorgeous. His lips are slightly chapped and small cigarette lines on his lips are barely visible. Barely visible yet I see them because those lips I have ravaged; those lips I remember. His skin, apart from the sunspots and freckles that are sprinkled upon us as we age, is still tanned and fantastic. His body is impeccable, of course. Leave it to Oliver to run every morning even in his 50s. His hair still golden yet lighter because of sun exposure and the light peppering of gray mixed in. 

Age could never combat his irresistible beauty, nor could time combat my desire for said beauty. 

I glance down at his left hand: no ring. I don't know what became of his wife, and I don't care to think about it right now. The pulse in my cock is telling me to think of other things, and most of all to touch Oliver. Before I reach out and touch, as I said so all those summers ago bragging about my almost-affair with Marzia by the river, I must speak to him first. 

He opens his mouth to speak, and I let him:

"Elio. God, you are beautiful. I don't think I've ever told you that before. Can I come in?" He asks. 

I blush and don't pretend that I haven't. I want him to see this blush and know he put it there with just a few words. Behold my blush Oliver, for it is the scarlet letter I wear for my lechery. Look at it, absorb it, for this blush may be seen by others but never is it this very shade of scarlet, oh no it is not. This shade is only for you. I begin to speak, my cheeks burning,

"Yes, yes of course. And you, Oliver, you're beautiful too. I don't think I've ever said that before either."

I usher him over the threshold of my apartment's door, watching as his feet sweep over the lousy welcome mat. I've watched so many before him step on the mat without a care in my mind, but this time I take a mental note that his feet have been there. Oh, his feet. Every other guest had been wiped away, and only Oliver remained. I lead him to the old couch and gesture for him to sit down, he does. 

"How are you?" He asks, even though I'd be willing to bet almost anything he already knows. This small talk is making me nauseous. I hate small talk. 

"You already know how I am Oliver. I've been fine apart from the sorrow: mom's passed, dad's passed, Mafalda, Manfredi, all of them. I've dealt with all the loss as I always do. I'm a professor at Juilliard, and I play piano professionally pretty much everywhere. Everything is fine. What's different is your being here, so shall we stop the small talk and really speak?" I bravely utter, softly at first and then gradually increasing with valor. This crescendo even surprises me as it unfolds.

"Thank goodness. I hate small talk, but you already know that. I know about your mom and Pro, and Mafalda too. I spoke to your parents often, did you forget this? You couldn't have!" He says with a light grin. 

"No, I didn't forget. I remember everything, Elio. Absolutely everything." I say, adding in a sprinkle of mirth from the moment so many years ago when he became Elio and I became Oliver.

His eyes roll back in the most obscene way, and I could just devour him right now.

"Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver." He moans. His grunts are absolutely delicious. My cock grows impossibly harder with each sound that comes out of that mouth of his. 

He reaches out and cups my face with his right hand. This cupping wasn't friendly, not in the slightest. His thumb travels as the rest of his fingers remain stagnant on my cheek; like a brave pioneer, that right thumb of his, stumbling through the newfound colonies all on its own. This thumb eventually reaches my bottom lip, swipes over it, and then slips into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his finger, thanking God for the chance to taste his skin again. He looks so pleased with this action. His face is light, illuminative in this dank room, and my sucking of his thumb makes it glow like a full moon amidst a curse of dreadful fog. He takes his thumb out of my mouth and kisses me hard. Oh, how I missed the taste of his lips. Immediately the kiss becomes deeper, just as deep as the night when he pushed me up against the wall in Rome. We kiss, tongues intertwining and lips hungry for so much more. He breaks the kiss only to find a soft spot on my neck to indulge his lustrous desires. I hold his head as he sucks my neck, making me weep for more and call out my own name. I go on a journey of my own, sucking his neck just as he is mine. I make note of the obscene sounds that come out of his mouth when I do this, for I never want to forget this moment. 

We look into each other's eyes at the same time. Love is implanted in this gaze, such love. I reach for Oliver's crotch like that day on the berm when he so rudely pushed me away, though it's different now: he leans into my touch. He leans in and holds me closer to his body, looking into my eyes as I palm his cock from the outside of his old, worn out jeans. He presses his forehead to mine. So soft, so Oliver.

"Elio." He says, almost as if he's making a point to take us out of our lust and return to reality for a moment. 

"What?" I inquire. I lean into his forehead before he speaks, pressing my weight into him.

"I love you. We've never said that before. I know you feel it too, but I'd like to say it. I'd like to hear you say it, if you would." He says this to me as if I haven't been telling him I love him this entire time, with the way I look at him to the way I breathe when I'm around him. Every word that leaves my lips is love, love, love. 

"Oliver, I've always loved you. You know that. I love you deeper than anyone has ever loved." I say against his hot breath on my face. He still hasn't pulled away from my forehead, but as I speak I feel a tear fall onto my face from his crystal blue eyes.

I lick the tear off his face obscenely, and he loves it. He smiles at me and embraces me in a way I've never been embraced before. He holds me like I'm the only person in the world, like there is no one else on earth for him to embrace. He is the only one I will ever want like this. The only one I will love this deeply. 

He lets go of my torso and holds my face with both hands, looking me in the eyes as if to say "nowhere to run now". He kisses me again. This time, though, it's a kiss full of love and lust intertwined, the two feelings mixed together in one sweep of Oliver's tongue on mine. The feeling of arousal is bubbling through my stomach. It gets hotter every time he touches me. 

I can't take the softness anymore; I just need him to touch me. I grab his hand off my face and place it at my crotch, whispering in his ear, "Touch me, baby."

He palms my hard cock through my pants, and I can't help but sigh and moan with pleasure as he does so. It has always felt like my body was made for Oliver. I've been with plenty of men and plenty of women, all who've touched my cock in the very same way he is now, but it never feels this good. It only feels this good when it's Oliver. The way he touches me sends my entire body into a state of writhing electricity. He makes me feel so fucking good. 

He continues to rub my dick over my pants and I do the same to him. Eventually, we drift off into my bedroom, shedding our shirts and pants on the way there. Once we're laying on my messily tucked sheets, Oliver gets on top of me and starts to kiss my neck. He knows I love when he does that, and he can tell by my whines of approval. He grinds down into me with his hard cock and I wrap my legs around him when he does it. I want more. As he kisses down my chest I slip my hands underneath the waistband of his boxers, gesturing for him to wiggle out of them. He obliges, of course, and now I can see his perfectly hard dick in full view. I shove him off me, sit him down on the bed and get on my knees to suck his glorious cock. I lick the tip as he groans, animalistic and delicious. I slip the head of his dick into my mouth and begin to worship his entire cock and balls with my mouth. By the time I'm satisfied with my work he's red-faced and sexy, sucking in his breaths like he hasn't breathed in years. He brings me back up to his face and kisses me like he's devouring the most decadent chocolate cake in the world. I get out of my underwear and sit on his lap with my legs wrapped around his lower back, feeling his dick rub between the cheeks of my ass. I nibble his ear and tell him to taste me. His face lights up with a pulse of arousal and before I know it I'm ass up on my bed with Oliver's face buried in my ass. His tongue licks my hole so well, better than anyone else's ever has. I moan with approval at every move he makes, especially when he decides to jerk my dick and taste my hole at the same time. My body is on fire. I know I need to feel Oliver inside me once again. Once again after so many wasted years.

"Fuck me Elio." I gasp.

"Oliver, Oliver, Oliver...." He moans.

Oliver pushes my legs flat on the bed and crawls on top of me once again. My back is facing him and he takes advantage of it by kissing every square inch of my back with those sweet lips of his. He sets his chin on my right shoulder and breathes a hot breath in my ear, sending a chill down my spine and making me hornier than I've ever been. He slides his dick inside me, and I've never been so euphoric. The initial sting that comes with having a dick in your ass subsidies so quickly it's almost like it was never there at all, and all I can feel is pleasure. He thrusts so deeply and every time I feel myself sinking deeper into him, like he and I are one body. He feels so good inside me, so warm and full. I never want anyone else inside me after this day. No one else but Oliver.

He flips me over and we fuck until I'm right on the edge, looking the man I love in the eyes and telling him I'm going to come. 

"Ah-Oliver..I'm so close.." 

"Come, baby. I want you to." 

That was enough to get me to shoot my load all over my stomach, Oliver following close behind me and filling me up with his cum. We lay there in my bed, holding each other and giggling periodically because of the joy exploding out of both of us. 

"I'm not going back, Elio. I hope you know that. I'm not leaving you again. I really don't care what I have to do or where I have to be. As long as you're there I'm fine." He kisses my forehead after he says it, and I feel a tingle through my body. 

"You can stay here with me. For now, at least. I'd like to get a house for the two of us eventually."

"A house? Where'd you get the money for that?" He asks, eyes wide.

"My parents weren't exactly unfortunate in the money department, Oliver. When they passed they left me money in the will. I've saved in since because, frankly, I had no idea what I'd buy with dead parents’ money. I know they'd be happy if I used it to start our life together, though. They always knew we'd wind up together." I tell him, looking into his eyes with love and thoughts of a prosperous future.

"Yeah I figured they knew. My wife knew too, Elio. She knew about you because she read some things I had written on my laptop, some blurbs I wanted to send you but never did. I was sat on the couch and she came out screaming about the man from Italy whom I loved so much, saying 'What are you fucking gay, Oliver? Tell me now!'. I told her then that I was gay. I couldn't hide it anymore and it's not like she hadn't suspected it anyway. I never wanted sex and when I did it'd be after a long night of swigging scotch. She's such an amazing woman and I do love her, but not in the way a husband should love a wife. I told my boys after that. I told them I'd always be their father and that I loved their mom, but that I've always been gay and was too afraid to really accept it. They're amazing, my boys. I'd love for you to meet them, and Micol, too."

"I'd love to meet your boys, Oliver, I'm just not so sure Micol will want to see the man her husband left her for, you know?" I laugh a little, feeling sorrowful for the woman I cursed from afar for so many years. 

"She'll love to meet you. The kids are in college now and she has a new boyfriend, so it's all settled at the home front. That's why I knew it was time to come here. I didn't wanna hurt Micol more than I already had and I didn't want my kids' lives to be affected. I also couldn't wait any longer for you, so there's that."

"I didn't ever think you'd come back. I mean, I knew that I've been in love with you ever since we met but I wasn't sure how it'd end. A part of me thought you were gone for good." I snuggle closer to him as I say this, wanting to feel his warmth even more.

"I couldn't have been gone for good, Elio. You're the love of my life. I was always coming back to you. The story always ends with the two of us, in every universe where we exist."

"I love you, Oliver."

"I love you endlessly, Elio."

And there we lay through the night, making love and making up for lost time.


End file.
